Letting out a laugh, Donal said, “If she is from the future, she knows how we fare in the next battle.”
“No. She knows history, but not all battles were written aboot, and much of Scotland’s ballads and tales were never written. Also, remember, if Abigail hadn’t appeared on the moors that day, I would have died, and Sir Thomas and his army would not have known I was alive. With her arrival, the future was already changed.”
After he finished, Callum threw back his head and laughed, nearly choking on his own mirth. “Perhaps, then, she should not have saved your skin, and then the keep and lands here would have been safe from the hands of the Sassenachs.”
Leaping to her feet and thumping Callum on his head, Maeve snarled, “How can ye say such a thing? Ye would prefer to see Iain dead? For him not to have come back to us?” Tears filled her eyes as she turned to Iain. “I will try to get to know your future lass.” She threw herself into his arms. “I am thankful she brought ye home, brother of mine.”
Callum got up, and both he and Donal slapped Iain on the back. “Aye,” Callum said. “I am looking forward to killing the beasts who tried to kill our laird. You have my loyalty in this thing and in any battle.”
“Thank you, Callum. I know I do.” Iain grinned.
“But I cannae believe the lass is from the future. Mayhap she is, ah . . .”
“Ye mean mad?” Donal said. “Aye, my laird, I know ye have been smitten with the lass, but she cannae be from the future. ’Tis impossible.”
“Not impossible,” Jannet said.
Everyone watched her stand up and move to the desk as if they had forgotten she was even there.
She pulled a framed picture out of the box. It was an image of Mark and Dianne. “Do ye remember these people?”
Donal and Callum nodded.
“I do,” Maeve said. “They were Father’s dearest friends.” She tilted her head and gazed at the picture and smiled. “Dianne always had wee sweet treats for me.” She looked at Jannet. “They were different too.”
“Aye,” Jannet said. “They were from the future. In fact, they were Abigail’s parents.”
Donal asked, “Were?”
“Aye.” Jannet gazed at the picture, tears filling her eyes. “They willna be returning to Dorpol again.”
Maeve put her hand over her mouth. “They are dead?” Jannet nodded. “Does Abigail know this?”
“Aye,” Iain said.
Maeve frowned.
“What?” Iain asked.
“I remember Mark and Dianne. They were wonderful people and made Mother and Father happy whenever they visited. Looking back on their visits, their strange ways, I can believe they were not of our time. Can ye believe, Callum and Donal?”
“Aye,” Donal said slowly, as if remembering another time. “We trusted Dianne and Mark as Laird MacLaren did, and another thing. I remember our laird telling us they had great secrets that he would tell us one day.” He shook his head as if trying not to weep. “But he never got the chance.”
“Aye,” Callum said. “The laird was always taunting us with the things he could tell us about them, but never even giving us a small clue. I for one would never have thought they were from the future, but now that ye say it, I can see it is so.” He wagged his head. “It all fits into the puzzle now.”
Maeve went to Iain, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I can see Abigail means a lot to ye, Brother. Ye have succumbed to her charms and are now embroiled in her fate. What will happen to ye if she decides to leave us and return to her time?”
Iain’s chest tightened at the thought. He didn’t want herto go back. He wanted her to stay with him—to wed—and to have his bairns.
Rising onto her toes, Maeve kissed his cheek. “I can see I have caused you pain.”
“Abigail’s family have come to take her home.”
Maeve jumped back. “What? Now? We cannae allow that. Where are they?”
Iain hesitated. He didn’t want a fight to break out between his family and hers. He didn’t even know if he could ask Abigail to stay with him, to share the trials of what to her was the past.
He must have waited too long, because Jannet spoke up. “She is in her rooms.”
